


Fallen Warren

by OnceInABlueMoon



Series: Collapsed Garden [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst I guess, Blood, Daddy Issues, Dean in Purgatory, Gen, Gore, Mommy Issues, Not Really Character Death, Other, Purgatory, feral!Dean, just read it, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceInABlueMoon/pseuds/OnceInABlueMoon
Summary: "Now what?" Emma’s voice is scratchy from disuse and Dean’s shoulders lift at the sound. It reminds her of the way werewolves would bristle at any nearby noise in Purgatory, the low-to-the-ground-animals slouching down, bracing for an attack.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve seen a lot of posts about Dean finding Emma in Purgatory and the idea just wouldn’t let me go and hence this idea was born.

The night air is thick and humid and Emma’s hair, which is matted to her skull in layers coated in thick dirt, frizzes up. The tips of her blonde hair flecked with blood hardening in the night air. In Purgatory, it had been cold, a place made to destroy life, not to nurture it. It’s the hot air, which reminds her that this isn’t a dream, even in her sleep, in dreams of the real world Emma had never been able to get warm.  


Dean-she can’t call him dad, never did especially not after what she saw- casts a gaze over her, ruddy face creased with concern.  


“Here,” he says voice gruff and loud (quiet so quiet not even the buzz of instincts everything was still in a world of death) there wasn’t ever much need for talking in Purgatory “use these to get rid of some of the blood.” He hands her a handful of wipes that he had raided from the unsuspecting campers they had stumbled upon. Emma takes them without a word rubbing the grime off her face and the apples of her cheeks. She doesn’t bother with her hands, even if she could get the blood off, it would never really be gone.  


“Now what?” Her voice is scratchy from disuse and Dean’s shoulders lift at the sound. It reminds her of the way werewolves would bristle at any nearby noise in Purgatory, the low-to-the-ground-animals slouching down, bracing for an attack.  


“Get a hot shower, some cash, and then take care of Benny like we promised.” His eyes glance at her face and then bounce around, looking, waiting for something to pounce on them. Dean is all-human, and Emma is too for the most part, but a part of her Amazonian heritage means she doesn’t need to be on constant alert so obviously. If they were under attack, she’d know before their enemy would strike.  


She tries to remember when ‘her enemy’ became ‘their enemy’ but the whole process is complicated and all she can see imagine is the mottled trees of the fallen Eden she’d been cast into.  


_‘Hot shower,’_ she thinks _‘Food’_ when was the last time she had eaten something that wasn’t rotten Wendigo flesh?  


“Alright.” She crumples up the wipes in her hands, stuffs them in her tattered pockets. “Lead the way.”  
Dean nods and turned to move forward; back to her.  


As she watches the shift and play of soft, _vulnerable_ , muscles underneath his worn-thin shirt she realizes how much trust he must have in her, to allow her to watch his blind spot.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr here:  
> http://thetardismademedoit.tumblr.com/


End file.
